


Simple

by As_I_Am_Now



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 19:43:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/As_I_Am_Now/pseuds/As_I_Am_Now
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tumblr request: Angsty Dean/Jo with mild fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simple

The case was simple, well by hunter’s standards anyways.

What made it difficult was the fact that Dean decided he had to, his words, not Jo’s, “make sure she didn’t get herself hurt.”

Right.

She had gone off on a few solo hunts and so far, nothing too bad…if she didn’t count that last run in with the vampire. But hey, nobody’s perfect.

Jo was tough, she even put Dean on his knee’s (in more ways than one). So his over protectiveness was becoming annoying.

They arrived at the hotel, apparently it was haunted by the ghost of a man who had jumped off from the fifth floor. Thing was, he was making a habit of reliving his death. While he was reliving it he was bringing down anybody who had the misfortune of staying anywhere near the room he had fallen off of.

So the plan was simple; find Mr. Norman’s body, salt it and burn it and get the hell out.

Clean. Smooth. Done.

They forgot one thing.

Their plans never go “according to plan.”

“Dammit Dean if I had a nickel for every time I got trapped while hunting with you.” Jo muttered as she tried to see her surroundings. Everything was dark and it smelled distinctly of piss.

“Great.” She muttered as she felt her pants for any kind of weapon. The iron knife in her sock was still there.

Good enough.

She hadn’t even been the bait! It had been Sam this time.

Damn spirit had taken a whack at her from behind.

“ _Get up_.” Someone whispered. She yelled and felt something grab her arms and throw her forward. She looked around wildly and sheathed her knife from her sock but something twisted her arm. Before she could make sense of it all she was being dragged across the floor, defenseless.

Echoes of Dean’s name could be heard across the darkness.

 

*

“I thought this was supposed to be an easy case, Sam.” Dean snapped as they went searching the ground floor of the building.

“Everything’s simple until it get’s difficult.” Sam muttered.

“Wow, thanks Ghandi, real wise words you said there.”

“Shut up…I think I found something.” Sam pointed to a large cabinet that was hard pressed against the wall.

“Feel that?” Sam asked.

“There’s a breeze from behind.” Dean confirmed, grabbing the cabinet and pushing. Behind was a small trap door.

Dean grinned.

“Ladies first Samantha.” Dean said.

Sam rolled his eyes and climbed through, Dean quickly followed.

It was an empty room, dark and unintimidating if it hadn’t been for the lack of light. They walked around, looking for hints. Dean saw something shine in the light and went to look at it closer.

A knife.

Jo’s knife.

Dean sighed and showed it to Sam. Sam gave him a worried look.

“Why would he take her here and then…shit Sam!” Dean yelled rushing out of the trapdoor.

“He’s taking her to the fifth floor!” he yelled, running as Sam trailed behind him.

*

She couldn’t see a thing. All she felt was the chilly air seep under her clothes; the wind was strong and somewhere in the distance car’s were honking and people were walking, but she couldn’t really tell.

And then, from nowhere, the darkness lifted and she could see.

She was standing on the edge of the hotel building, over some badly planted bushes and a street that looked too close.

Jo couldn’t move, she felt as though something was keeping her rooted to the spot. She tried to turn her head to see what was behind her but it was useless. She was as stiff as a rod.

“ _Have you ever wondered what it felt like to fly?”_ something whispered in her ear. Below her she could see a figure rushing from the side of the building. It ran to the middle of the street and called her name.

Sam. That was Sam’s voice.

But where was Dean?

“ _Let’s see if you can fly_.” The ghost said and she was falling.

Falling.

            Down.

                        Until suddenly-

Darkness.

*

Sometimes she felt like she was dreaming. Yet, that couldn’t be right.

She was drifting in and out of consciousness until, finally, the world came into focus and the only thing that she could see clearly was the green of Dean’s eyes.

And dear lord did he look tired.

“Hey,” he said when he saw she was fully awake. He flashed her a charming smile but she knew better. She knew him better.

“What happened?” she asked, seeking comfort in the hospital sheets. Nothing could move her from this bed, as she woke up her body began to experience every ache and pain she had neglected while sleeping. It was annoying but the drugs were doing their job, to an extent.

“You fell off the roof but the bushes on the side softened your landing.” Dean said.

“Where’s Sam?” she asked.

“Went to get some coffee- it’s nine a.m. and none of us have had breakfast.”

“Well don’t let me keep you waiting.”

“Jo. You’ve been asleep for three days.” Dean said gravely.

“Oh.” Jo said, staring at him.

Dean looked at her for a long time, making her feel uncomfortable. She knew she looked like hell and her hair was probably a mess and her breath smelled like-

Dean kissed her long and hard. There was nothing fairy tale about it, it just had an edge of pure need. He kissed her to express all the things he couldn’t say, the fear, the sadness, the anger- everything was in that kiss.

It was rough and it was harsh, it was _them_ symbolized in that simple act.

“Whoh, tiger.” Jo said when they finally parted. Dean didn’t smile; he just looked at her and turned his face away towards the window.

They sat there in silence, watching the birds as they flew past, watching the clouds as they formed into various shapes. They stayed that way until Sam came back and even then they didn’t talk much, not willing to say how much they meant to each other and in turn not saying what they needed to say the most.

_I can’t lose you._


End file.
